Silver Springs
by LittleBluestem
Summary: Heyes and the Kid meet up with a woman from back east looking for her missing husband and they wind up trying to help solve the mystery of his disappearance.
1. Chapter 1

"You've been had, Lady! That man you say you was talking to is a con-man, a safe-cracker, and a low-down, dirty thief! Heck, he's one of the most dangerous outlaws in the West - with a price on his head to match. That there was none other than Hannibal Heyes hisself!"

"Oh, I'm sure you're mistaken, sir," the petite woman answered politely, her genteel inflections marking her as not only very much a lady, but a lady from "back east." She wore a wide-brimmed straw hat to shield her fair complexion from the merciless Arizona sun, and as she answered the man, she peered from beneath its shade, her large brown eyes wide and guileless.

"Why, both he and his friend were two of the most polite, well-mannered gentlemen I've ever had the pleasure to meet. They went out of their way to help us. You see, our wagon was stuck! In the mud! And one of the wheels was broken clean off! I don't know what we would have done if they hadn't have happened by. They fixed up our wagon good as new and asked for nothing in return."

She paused, remembering, then corrected herself,

"Well, the other one, Mr. Jones, _he_ did most of the fixing. And Mr. Smith, well, he did most of the talking - but such nice young men. We offered them some money for their trouble, but they wouldn't accept it. We insisted they at least stay to share our noon dinner."

One of the two younger women, both in their early 20's, maybe 10 years or so the junior of the first, impatiently pushed back a few errant golden strands escaping from her sun bonnet as she interrupted eagerly,

"They were both real nice. They said please and thank you and yes ma'am and no ma'am and they made sure we were okay before they left. And then they just tipped their hats and jumped up onto their horses and off they rode."

The large, beefy man who had introduced himself as Jake Martin laughed harshly and turned to spit into the dirt near his feet.

"Ha. No offense, ladies, but I reckon, bein' from back East and all, ya ain't had much experience meetin' desperate outlaws. Them men that fixed your wagon was Hannibal Heyes, the leader of the Devil's Hole Gang, and his partner Kid Curry, the notorious gunslinger and stone-cold killer."

The third young woman, the dark–haired one, said nothing. She eyed the four mounted men suspiciously and clenched the heavy old pistol in her hand a little tighter, hidden as it was among the folds of her voluminous gingham skirts. It had been her daddy's pistol, from back in the War. She'd found it, along with his old uniform and a few bullets, tucked away in the attic when they'd packed up the house back in St. Louis. She'd loaded it and practiced shooting it before the three women had started their journey into the west. She had no delusions about being a great shot, but she figured at this close range she'd manage to do some damage if these rough-looking characters

made any moves beyond merely questioning them about the two men who had come to their rescue earlier that day. Unlike the first two strangers, who had been respectful and well-mannered, these men had a hard, mean look about them. They didn't even try to hide their frank appraisal of the three women, their eyes rudely roving up and down the trim female figures seated three abreast atop the wagon, occasionally sharing an appreciative, leering glance with one another. Despite their scrutiny, none of the men noticed she was holding the gun, unlike Mr. Jones. ..

ooooo

It had been hot in the midday sun as the young man labored to repair the errant wagon wheel, the one with the sandy blond curls, the one named Jones. He had paused to remove his leather vest and dark blue shirt and toss them aside, rolling up the sleeves of his Henley undershirt before getting back to the task at hand. The hard muscles in his broad back and shoulders were clearly visible through the thin, sweat-soaked fabric. Katy purposely stood where she could keep a close eye on both him and his loquacious partner, who, after helping his friend heave the wagon clear of the sucking mud it had been mired in, was now talking animatedly with their Aunt Elizabeth, offering lengthy advice about the best route into Silver Springs along with helpful tips on what three women traveling alone should do to stay safe on the trail.

The duo seemed personable enough, but Katy was not a naturally trusting soul. And after all, this wasn't Missouri. This was the Wild, Wild West! Where just about every man they'd seen since they'd passed through Wichita was sporting a big six-shooter strapped to his hip. This was the place where her own beloved father had died and her dear Uncle James had disappeared without a trace. That was the reason why the three women had sold everything they owned to buy the wagon and supplies and come all this way - and they'd best not forget it. That and the fact that there was nothing left for them back in Missouri… Katy narrowed her eyes unconsciously as she watched their rescuers. There could be more to these friendly-seeming men than meets the eye, she thought suspiciously. They might be simply lulling the women into a false sense of confidence with their chivalrous behavior. ..

As she glared at the stranger working on the wagon wheel, her little sister Lilly sidled up to her and whispered in her ear with a girlish giggle,

"Hey, Katy, if we're lucky, maybe he'll take off that undershirt, too!"

He just couldn't have heard, not at that distance, could he have? But Katy could have sworn she glimpsed one corner of the young man's mouth twitch skyward - just a tiny bit, just for a second.

Soon Mr. Jones was spinning the wheel experimentally, making a few fine adjustments. Finally satisfied, he lowered the wagon off the makeshift jack and pronounced,

"There. That should hold ya."

He straightened up to his full height and mopped the sweat from his forehead with his bandanna. Lilly was at his side in an instant, proffering the canteen of water with a schoolgirl's simpering smile on her lips. Jones nodded his appreciation for the water, then took a long, grateful pull. As he lowered the canteen, he wiped his face again with the bandanna, thanked Lilly gallantly, then turned one blue eye in Katy's direction, the other squinting against the bright sun.

"Ya know, ma'am," he drawled, "My partner here and I would never harm innocent womenfolk such as yourself. You really don't have to hang on to that hog's leg so tight."

Katy was startled and genuinely confused.

"H-hog's Leg..?"

"The gun, ma'am," he explained, nodding slightly towards her side.

"The one in your right hand there. You don't need to worry about us doin' anything you'd have to shoot us for. But if it makes you feel better, you just go right on clutchin' it. No offense taken."

As she stared back dumbly, Mr. Jones's face remained expressionless but his blue eyes were dancing. He began to whistle cheerfully as he busied himself picking up the various tools scattered about on the ground, returning them to the wooden box in the back of the wagon where he'd found them.

Aunt Elizabeth's fair complexion blazed scarlet and in her sternest school-marm voice she began to scold her elder niece,

"Katy Rose. How could you even - "

But whatever she had been going to say was cut off by Mr. Smith, who was chuckling right out loud, his handsome face wreathed in a dimpled grin.

"Oh, Mrs. Sterling, my partner's right. We're not the least bit offended! In fact, your niece is a real smart gal not to go blindly trusting a couple of strangers that happen along the trail. They might not all be as kind-hearted and law-abiding as us."

As Mr. Smith was talking, Mr. Jones had paused to take another long drink from the canteen. He must have swallowed the wrong way, because he started coughing and choking until his friend strode over and pounded him on the back a couple times. Kind of hard, too, Katy couldn't help noticing. The two men exchanged a look that was hard to decipher and that's when Auntie Elizabeth insisted they stay and eat dinner with them and that Katy Rose had better put up that gun and help her sister Lilly Anne scare up something for our good Samaritans to eat and wouldn't their guests like to go down to the creek and freshen up some before dinner?

ooooo

But that was a few hours and plenty of miles ago. Now Katy was listening to these four disreputable-looking men who had clattered up to the wagon and rudely pulled it to a halt, claiming that the taciturn, soft-spoken fellow with the mop of ash-blond curls and eyes as blue as a prairie sky was a dangerous, fast-drawing outlaw and cold-blooded murderer. And that other one, the slim one with the kind brown eyes, rakish grin, and shock of unruly dark hair, was the devilishly clever leader of a ruthless gang of highwaymen.

Finally she spoke up,

"So I suppose you four are lawmen, charged with capturing those two alleged outlaws? Why don't I see any of you wearing badges?"

"Lawmen!" Martin scoffed. "The Law is useless agin these kind of scum. We're Bounty Hunters and proud of it. We're gonna catch them outlaws and see that they face justice for their crimes."

The others joined in with various grunts and "yep"s and other none-too-articulate indications of agreement.

"Yes. And collect a rather substantial reward for your trouble," she answered icily.

Martin apparently missed the sarcasm and grinned widely, revealing surprisingly straight, white teeth, marred only by the dark gap where one was missing on the bottom toward the back left and the one gold front incisor on top.

"You're darn tootin', pretty lady."

Lilly was adamant in her refusal to think badly of their saviors and insisted stubbornly,

"Well, I for one, cannot believe for a single minute that those two are outlaws."

"Well, Miss, if you're right about them, then they got nothing to worry about when we catch up with 'em. So, iffen you could just be so kind as to point out which direction they was headed, we'll be ridin' out."

Three slender, feminine arms shot up instantly, each one pointing in a different direction.

"Why thank you kindly, ladies. You've just told us everything we need to know," the leader's voice dripped with insincere courtesy. He tipped his hat as he reined his mount around, signaled to his men, and dug in his spurs. All four galloped off in the lone direction _not _pointed out, amid a chorus of "Yeehaw"s along with much whooping and hollering. Raucous laughter mingled with the sound of thundering hoofbeats trailing behind the horsemen and gradually fading into silence as the unsavory group disappeared in a cloud of dust.


	2. Chapter 2 (revised)

From his vantage point on the bluff above the trail, obscured from below by a pile of weathered granite boulders, the devilishly clever (former) leader of the Devil's Hole Gang, Hannibal Heyes, lowered his binoculars and grinned.

"That couldn't have gone any better if I'd planned it myself," he chortled, slapping his partner on the back and heading for his mare, tethered nearby among some scrubby bushes. Jedidiah "Kid" Curry lowered the rifle he'd been aiming toward the bounty hunters as a precautionary measure, but did not yet tear his gaze away from the three vulnerable women.

"You know who that was, doncha? That was Snake Martin and his bunch, out of Laredo." He turned to look at his partner pointedly as he continued, "And goes without sayin' they know us, too, Heyes. Wonder what gave them the notion to turn Bounty Hunter 'stead of sticking to small-time thievery."

The Kid slid the rifle back into the scabbard buckled onto his saddle before he swung himself up onto his chestnut gelding, taking one last long look at the dust cloud kicked up by the riders disappearing toward the northern horizon, then turned his gaze back to the lone covered wagon now proceeding westward toward the lowering sun. It looked awfully small in the wide open space beneath their vantage point.

His partner, already mounted and starting to pick his way down the rocky trail, twisted around in the saddle to answer,

"20,000 dollars is what gave them the notion, Kid. They must have spotted us back in Red Rock and followed us. But thanks to those lovely ladies from St. Louis, Missouri, they'll soon be heading down a false trail. With a little luck, they'll go all the way to Brown's Station. By the time they figure out we're not there, we'll be camping up in those hills over yonder, halfway to Croton Pass. It'll be too dark to travel by then and they'll never figure out where we've gone. They're not exactly professional trackers."

Curry grinned back at his smiling partner, "So I guess you gotta admit, Heyes, that sometimes it _does _pay to help a damsel in distress… or two… or three…"

oooooooo

The sun had already dipped beneath the western horizon amid a glory of rose and gold and russet clouds, the promise of fair weather on the morrow. The gilded evening sunlight was beginning to fade as the covered wagon trundled slowly into the copse of trees. The three women had covered a lot of territory that day, despite their mishap with the wheel and the short but unpleasant delay caused by the encounter with the bounty hunters. They had finally reached the hills just east of their final destination, Silver Springs. After poring over the map that her husband James had sent before he'd abruptly stopped writing, Elizabeth was convinced they could make Silver Springs in two more days' time. They would spend tomorrow night in Croton Pass, but tonight they'd have to make camp. Elizabeth could hear running water, so there must be a brook nearby. The trees would give them shelter, the ground was fairly level, and there was plenty of forage for the horses. In addition, the elevation gave them a good view of any approaching travelers. She shuddered involuntarily remembering the four bounty hunters and whispered a little prayer that the two men who had helped them earlier that day had gotten a sufficient head start to elude their pursuers.

"This looks like a good spot to make camp," she announced to her nieces. Katy Rose immediately agreed and gently elbowed her sister Lilly Anne, who was drowsing between them on the buckboard.

All three women started when they heard a man's baritone voice call out,

"Yes, it's an excellent spot. I do believe you were listening to my advice, Ma'am."

Two tall figures stepped out of the shadow of the trees, both casually slipping their guns back into their holsters.

Elizabeth recognized Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones, the two young men who had rescued them from their muddy predicament that morning. She couldn't help smiling to herself as Mr. Smith continued to speak, his handsome face wreathed in a dimpled grin that tugged at the corners of his deep brown eyes,

"In fact, we've already set up camp. You're welcome to join us. Or if you prefer, we'll move on and let you ladies take this spot," he amended politely.

Elizabeth noticed Mr. Jones was already starting to unhitch the horses from the wagon, so she hurriedly replied,

"Oh, please, no – you were here first. We'll move on."

"Ladies, if you don't mind my saying so, you'd be much safer if you stay near us. We've already got a fire going and seeing as you made us dinner today, I do believe it's our turn to invite you over to supper."

The charming dark-eyed stranger was already handing Elizabeth down from the wagon. He then lifted out the sleepy-looking blonde-haired girl, taking care to hide his smile as she let out the tiniest little gasp in response to the touch of his strong hands encircling her small waist. When he turned to help her dark-haired sister, he noticed with amusement that she had already scrambled out of the wagon as quickly as possible, and now seemed quite preoccupied with smoothing out her skirts in an elaborately casual manner. In contrast to the studied indifference of her elder sister, the younger gal didn't even try to hide her delight at the unexpected reappearance of the two handsome strangers.

Throughout all this, Mr. Smith went on talking smoothly and almost uninterruptedly.

"…And after supper, you ladies can bed down in your wagon. My partner and I will sleep over by the fire. But just one of us will be sleeping at a time, you understand. We'll take turns keeping watch, so you can rest easy knowing you couldn't be in safer hands. Now you just come on over to the fire while Thaddeus takes care of your horses and have a cup of nice hot coffee and I'll finish making supper. It's getting a little cooler now the sun's gone down, isn't it…"

As he continued his soliloquy, he offered his arm gallantly to Elizabeth, who took it automatically. The younger women followed mutely in their wake, no one noticing the man called Jones shaking his head and smirking slightly as he took care of the newly arrived horses, removing their harnesses, rubbing them down briskly, and hobbling them in the grassy area adjacent the stream where the other two animals were already contentedly munching.


	3. Chapter 3

The first few bright stars pricking through the darkening sky found all five travelers seated comfortably around the fire, dining on beans, biscuits, and three plump quails, roasted with a sprinkling of dried rosemary from Elizabeth's stores that she had insisted on contributing to the meal. She and Katy were wrapped in woolen shawls against the cool evening breeze while Lilly was nearly engulfed by an over-sized, well-worn, sheepskin jacket.

"Why, this is quite delicious!" exclaimed Elizabeth after her first bite.

"You don't need to sound so surprised, ma'am. Although I admit I prefer a lady's cooking to my own, I don't do so bad myself," remarked Smith, somewhat immodestly.

"But wherever did you get the chickens?" asked Lilly.

"Oh, they're not chickens, they're quails, ma'am. My partner gets a little sick of beans sometimes, so when we flushed a small flock of them earlier today he bagged a few," he answered.

"But there isn't any buckshot in them," marveled Lilly, examining first her own piece, then the rest of the birds still skewered on the spit.

"That's because I ain't got a shotgun, ma'am. Used a rifle on 'em," put in Mr. Jones helpfully, speaking around a mouthful of beans, biscuit, and bird.

"Well, that explains it then," said Katy as she took a sip of coffee. "The bullets must've gone clean through the little things."

Lilly was still examining the birds on the spit.

"No bullet holes either! Are you sure you didn't just run across a little old chicken coop and - "

"Lilly, it isn't polite to scrutinize your food as if you were some kind of detective in a dime novel, looking for evidence at the scene of a crime, much less imply that your host is, er, telling tales," admonished her aunt, looking at said host apologetically.

But said host did not appear the least bit offended.

"No, go on, look a little closer, Miss Cassidy," he insisted. "At their heads."

"Ooooooh!"

Impressed, she turned to marvel at the shooter, who was still making steady progress on his supper, albeit scowling darkly at his partner.

"Right through the eyeballs!" she exclaimed.

Katy, after discreetly emptying the remaining contents of her coffee mug onto the grass behind her, leaned in to get a closer look.

Their aunt was truly mortified,

"Lilly! Please! Not while we're eating!"

But their garrulous host seemed oblivious of the women's sensibilities. Could be he was just proud of his partner's shooting prowess or perhaps he wanted their guests to be absolutely certain they weren't lying about having nicked a couple of chickens out of some rancher's coop. Either way, he continued to elaborate,

"Oh, that's 'cause Thaddeus here is a real softie. He always shoots 'em right through their eyes so they'll die instantly. He doesn't want any poor creature to suffer just so's he can eat."

Thaddeus rolled his eyes at his partner.

"Come on, Joshua, cut it out. Unless _you_ want to do some sufferin'."

He turned back to the girls.

"It just gives me something to aim at," he explained dismissively.

"And sometimes I get lucky, like today," he added unconvincingly, then quickly changed the subject.

"We both want to thank you ladies for sending those boys you ran into this afternoon off on a wild goose chase."

"Oh, Mr. Jones," wailed Lilly, wide-eyed, "we didn't mean to give you away! Honest! We were trying so hard not to tell them which way you two went, but they figured it out!" She looked as if she might cry and the other two women nodded their agreement.

Once again, Joshua Smith stepped in to smooth things over,

"You did exactly what we were hoping you would do! We suspected that bunch was following us, so's we laid a false trail heading north toward Brown's Station for a good five miles, then doubled back and skirted around and headed west up into these hills, where we'd been planning on going all along. We can't thank you enough for getting them fellas to go that way!"

He paused to let that sink in.

"What'd they say they wanted us for, anyway?" he added nonchalantly, as he collected dirty plates and forks.

All three women got very quiet. Elizabeth and Lilly glanced away almost shyly, but Katy locked her eyes directly onto his. As she gazed at him steadily, he could see in the firelight that her eyes weren't blue like her sister's or brown like her aunt's, but green with little gold flecks in them. She looked dead serious, so he concentrated on the golden flecks and carefully arranged his face to be perfectly expressionless. She said evenly,

"They told us they were bounty hunters. And they said that _you're_ Hannibal Heyes and _he's_ Kid Curry."

"Those liars!" burst out Heyes, shouting loud enough that the horses let out startled whickers.

Kid jumped a bit too, not expecting his partner to take this tactic. Heyes could feel everyone's eyes on him, even the Kid's, whose blue gaze could be roughly translated as, 'What the hell are you up to now, Heyes?' But some gut instinct told Hannibal Heyes that this was the ideal approach to convince this particular audience and he figured it wouldn't take the Kid too much time to catch on and play along. Besides, he was having fun. He pretended righteous indignation.

"That was Jake the Snake Martin and his gang! Hah! Outlaws! Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! And he said WE were - "

The young man leapt to his feet and began to pace back and forth in an agitated manner, as if he was so furious he couldn't speak.

After masking his initial surprise, the Kid jumped in handily,

"Snake never did like us. Always bad-mouthing us, looking for the slightest excuse to pick a fight!"

As Kid thought about Snake Martin his loathing took on a more genuine tone,

"That no-good, four-flushing, egg-suckin' son of a – oh…um, uh, begging your pardons, ladies," he trailed off sheepishly, belatedly aware of three pairs of very wide, very shocked, very feminine eyes staring at him in fascination.

But then Heyes sat down abruptly and everyone's attention was back on him as he appeared to master his fury.

"Well, Jake the Snake is not only an outlaw, he's the worst kind of outlaw. Even Hannibal Heyes and that other fellow –"

"Kid Curry," Lilly helpfully supplied.

" – yeah, even Heyes and Curry only robbed banks and trains. Snake Martin and his gang hold up stage coaches and rob ranches and small homesteads. They prey on helpless folks that can't protect themselves."

Once again recovered, Curry chimed in,

"And Kid Curry and whatshisname –"

"Hannibal Heyes!" Lilly again interjected eagerly, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Kid went on, " – yeah, him! Well, everyone knows those two never shot anyone when they pulled a job. But Snake Martin's gang has killed plenty of people – and worse."

Elizabeth swallowed fearfully at the 'and worse,' but the two younger women were caught up in the whole performance, looking just a little starry-eyed, as only those innocents who have never actually experienced true evil can look, no doubt imagining the two handsome cowboys defending their honor from the evil-sounding Snake Martin and his equally evil minions.

Heyes was still on a roll,

"And rumor has it, Heyes and Curry," the latter name uttered hastily, not even the slightest hesitation lest Lilly once again chime in, "have retired from their life of crime and high-tailed it off to Old Mexico. No one has heard of any bank or train robberies they've pulled for almost a year."

"But why do they hate you so much, Mr. Smith?" questioned Elizabeth. "Why would they want to go after you?"

"Well," answered Heyes, much calmer now and settling back a little more comfortably against his bedroll, "it's like this…"

Author's note: I don't have any experience with guns, so I don't know if it is just ridiculously unrealistic to have the Kid shooting quails through their eyeballs, but I figure if anyone could do it, he could...I mean, he can toss a bullet up in the air and shoot it, right?


	4. Chapter 4

"Good story, Heyes. I almost believed it myself," Curry whispered to Heyes after the final goodnights had been said and the three women had crawled into the wagon. It was the Kid's turn to take the first watch. He checked his gun as his partner spread out his bedroll near the smoldering embers of the campfire.

"Well, Kid," Heyes responded in a low voice, "part of it was true. And it sure took their minds off speculating whether or not we're Heyes and Curry - plus, in case they ever find out we really ARE them, we'll seem like pure saints compared to Snake's gang."

"We ARE pure saints compared to those sons of bitches," answered Kid grimly. This time he did not apologize. "I'll wake you in two hours."

He strode off to check on the horses and then scout out a good vantage point from which he could spot any unwelcome approach to the sleeping camp.

ooooooo

"Snake?" queried the shaggy-haired, skinny outlaw known as Coyote, "What are we gonna do? They ain't here anywheres!"

"Awww, *&#% them!" bellowed Martin, "Those little bitches fooled us on purpose. What do Heyes and Curry got that gets women eatin' outta their hands? Whatta they got I ain't got?"

Coyote was not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was astute enough to know not to answer his boss's question honestly. Instead he suggested they repair to the nearest of the three saloons in Brown's Crossing. And that is where the four erstwhile bounty hunters spent the next several hours, playing poker, visiting the not-so-lucky girls upstairs, and drinking heavily, Martin nursing a king-sized grudge against that two-bit, sweet-talking, smarmy-faced Hannibal Heyes and his smug-assed, fast-drawing, baby-faced partner, Kid Curry.

ooooooo

"So, Mrs. Sterling," Heyes was saying over plates of leftover biscuits and crisply fried bacon. The sky was lightening to the east and the sound of birds calling their good mornings in the tree branches above made a cheerful cacophony.

"You told us yesterday that you and your two lovely nieces are on your way to meet up with your husband in Silver Springs. I just can't help wondering why he didn't go back east himself to fetch you. I don't mean to say anything against him, but it seems kinda strange to me. I mean, if you were _my_ wife I wouldn't a let you come all this way across the countryside all on your own like this."

Curry shot him a 'Careful, Heyes' look, but they had both discussed it the day before, after they'd first met up with the women, and the truth was the Kid had been even more critical than his partner in regards to the poor judgment of the as yet unmet James Sterling.

Elizabeth Sterling hesitated. She thought she could trust these men, yet she felt somewhat fearful and more than a little apprehensive. Should she tell them? She opened her mouth. Closed it again. In an effort to change the subject, she pointed at what she very well knew was a turkey buzzard soaring overhead,

"Oh, look, Mr. Smith. Is that a golden eagle up there? We have bald eagles on the bluffs of the Mississippi back home, but I've never before seen a golden…"

Lilly busted in, "Aunt Liz, if you don't tell them, I will!"

"No, Lilly!" This was Katy now, scowling at her sister darkly, not trusting these relative strangers with their personal affairs. Heyes raised one eyebrow as he appraised her suddenly stormy countenance. The Kid had warned him about the loaded pistol she'd had hidden in her skirts when they'd first met, plus he couldn't forget the skeptical green eyes from the night before.

"It's nobody's business!" she hissed at her sister. Then she addressed the two men in a falsely cheerful tone, "We're very grateful to you both, for… for everything, but we need to get going now. Uncle James is expecting us."

Suddenly Elizabeth Sterling's face crumpled and she began to weep silently. Lilly threw both arms around her aunt and murmured to her soothingly, tears now coursing down her own cheeks as well. Katy stood abruptly and walked over to the horses. She led one of them to the wagon and began attaching the harness. Her movements were swift and deliberate. She aimed to get her family – what was left of it - out of there as soon as possible, before they went blabbing their personal problems to these two complete strangers. Smith and Jones may have been charming and good-looking, but nevertheless, they were still strangers. For all the women knew, they might actually _be_ those two notorious outlaws!

The two partners held a mute conversation with their eyes.

'These gals are in trouble and we gotta help em,' was the Kid's silent plea. 'I know, Kid, I know, but we've got Snake Martin after us and a real good job waiting in Croton Pass,' was Heyes's unspoken answer. Then, from Curry, the Look, which could best be translated as 'Heyes!' (accent on the 'hey'…)

'Well, they did help us out of a tight spot…' was now the expression on Heyes's face. Kid could tell that his partner was vacillating, the corners of his expressive mouth tilting upward just a little. Heyes might act like a real hard case, but the Kid knew his partner would come around eventually. At last Heyes heaved a big sigh, which meant a reluctant, 'Okay, okay, you win.'

"Lilly," Kid said softly, sensing instinctively which of the three females was most vulnerable to his charms. He squatted down next to the weeping girl and with a forefinger and thumb beneath the chin, he gently turned her tear-streaked face to his.

"Tell us. Maybe we can help you."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Katy working furiously, almost desperately, to hitch up the second horse. Then she began scooping up their scattered belongings and stowing them in the back of the wagon.

"It's time to go," she kept saying. "Aunt Lizzie. Lilly. Come on. We've got to go. We've got to get to Uncle James. Come on. Let's go. Lilly." She was speaking through gritted teeth now. "DON'T tell them."

"No, Katy!" Lilly choked out at last. "Maybe they can help us. We're on our own out here."

Then she turned back to the man she knew as Thaddeus, the handsome hero who had ridden out of nowhere like a knight in a fairy tale, who had fixed their wagon good as new and who could shoot a bird on the fly, right through its little black beady eye. Maybe he and his charming, sweet-talking friend Joshua could help them. They were both strong and capable. Maybe they could fix this. .

But Elizabeth had gathered herself together and swiped the tears off her face with her sleeve.

"No girls. I'll tell them."


	5. Chapter 5

Elisabeth took a deep breath and began her story, "About three years ago, my husband James and my elder sister's husband, Richard Cassidy - that's the girls' father - went out to Silver Springs. James's uncle had established a cattle ranch there back in the 60's, but he was getting on in years and he suffered terribly from arthritis, so he came back to Missouri to retire. He never married, had no children of his own, but it was his dream to keep the ranch in the family, so he deeded it over to his only nephew – my James. We all agreed the husbands would go out first, then send for the rest of us. James and Richard said theyd wire train tickets for Emmy and me and the girls as far as Blyton. They'd meet us there and we'd all take a stage coach the rest of the way. We heard from them regular for two years. They told us everything was going fine and they sent us money every month to pay the rent and the other bills. But … then we didn't hear anything for a long time… And the money stopped coming."

She swallowed hard, frowning slightly as the story took this turn.

"It was difficult to make ends meet. So I got a job teaching school and Emmy took in boarders. After three months with no word, we received a telegram from James telling us Richard had… had died. That was the last we heard from him."

Her voice remained steady, but silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she continued,

"Emmy was never the same since. She loved her girls, sure, but it was like a part of her died with Richard. She stopped eating and she couldn't sleep. Then she got sick. And she never got better…"

Both men murmured quiet words of condolence and shook their heads in sympathy. They waited patiently for Elizabeth to gather herself together. She collected herself, then finished the story rapidly.

"I wrote James the news, but that was six months ago and I still haven't heard from him. We couldn't make the rent. We were evicted. So we sold everything we could, packed up the rest, and used the last of our money to buy this wagon and horses and supplies. We traveled with a wagon train of missionaries from St. Louis as far as Las Cruces, but we parted ways there and so for the last couple days we've been on our own…and...well, you know the rest. We're going to Silver Springs to find my husband James."

After she had spilled it all out, Elizabeth took a deep breath. She appeared embarrassed to have revealed such intimate details of her life to virtual strangers.

"Well," she said hastily. "I feel better just having told someone. We'll be off now. Thanks for listening. And thanks again for all your help. Girls? Let's be going now. We have a full day of travel ahead of us."

She stood up, now avoiding the eyes of the two men to whom she had just unburdened herself, brushed off her skirts, and moved to pull Lilly to her feet.

Katy was already sitting in the driver's seat of the loaded wagon, hands on the reins, one booted foot tapping impatiently and a look on her face that somehow combined anger, fear, and sheer determination.

"Now hold on just a minute, there, Mrs. Sterling," said Heyes, rising to his feet and gently placing a hand on her arm.

"You say you haven't heard from your husband in - how long now?"

"Well, we got the telegram he sent almost a year ago," she answered falteringly, looking as if she might cry again.

Curry was now standing next to Heyes, arms crossed across his chest and concern written all over his usually guarded features,

"And you and your two nieces are just gonna waltz into Silver Springs – on your own - and somehow everything's gonna work out just fine?"

"Are you saying we can't manage on our own because we're women, Mr. Jones?" Katy piped up from her perch on the wagon.

"Are you implying that merely because we are female, we just have to stand by helplessly and let men trample all over us?!" Her voice had climbed a half octave.

"Thank you very much for repairing our wagon and for sharing your campfire and, and food, but we need to be going now. Come ON, Lilly. Aunt Liz."

"Katy Rose is right," replied Mrs. Sterling, straightening her shoulders and taking a deep breath.

"What could you two do that we can't? We're just going to ride straight into Silver Springs and find out what happened to my husband. And … and whether or not he's … there… we're going to take ownership of the ranch. No one can take that from us. Before they left, we had a copy of the deed made and I've brought it along with us."

The reformed outlaws locked eyes. A decision was made, but the ladies were unaware of it. The Kid lifted Lilly into the wagon while Heyes handed her aunt up. Katy was still tapping her foot, but Kid took hold of the near horse's bridle as his partner said good bye for both of them.

"You said you'll be stopping over tonight in Croton Pass, right? There's a real nice lady runs a boarding house there, name of Ella Campbell. Tell her Smith and Jones sent you and she'll take good care of you. You be careful now and don't forget anything I said, Ma'am. Ladies."

He touched his hat as Curry stepped away from the horses, one finger touching his own hat. Katy impatiently slapped the reins and they were off.

"I won't forget!" called Elizabeth as the wagon rumbled away.

Lilly waved and hollered her thanks until her aunt admonished her to turn around and face front before she fell off the wagon and broke her neck. They were soon out of sight, obscured by the trees and underbrush.

The two men worked quickly and silently to break camp. Words were unnecessary as the dying fire was doused and covered with dirt, dishes rinsed and stowed, belongings crammed into saddlebags, bedrolls rolled up, horses saddled, and everything packed away in its proper place. Not ten minutes after the wagon had departed, two riders were galloping along the wooded trail. When they reached a fork in the road about a mile later, neither man hesitated to urge his horse up the narrow, rocky shortcut that led directly over the mountains and down into Silver Springs. The wagon would be taking the wider, flatter, much longer trail through Croton Pass.


	6. Chapter 6

The long afternoon shadows stretched all the way across the dirt road as two saddlebums rode into town, dusty from the day's ride. No one took any notice of them. Silver Springs was not what you'd call a close-knit community. Drifters drifted in and out, cowboys came and went. It was not a place where a stranger would stand out as unusual. Curry was soon discreetly checking out the Silver Springs Sheriff's Office and scouting out the rest of the town while Heyes sent a quick telegram to their contact in Croton Pass, a man named Ken Reed:

SMITH AND JONES DELAYED 1 DAY. BIG MAC.

Heyes smiled to himself. He appreciated their old friend Big Mac McCreedy arranging this job for them, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Besides, what would an extra day matter on a simple delivery job like this, anyway? He sent a second telegram to Mrs. Ella Campbell, a motherly, middle-aged woman who had taken a real liking to the partners when they had passed through Croton Pass a few months previous and helped her out of a bit of a jam.

SMITH & JONES SENDING YOU 3 FRIENDS OF OURS. CAME ALONE FROM MISSOURI.

When the two met up again in front of the livery stable, the satisfied look on the Kid's face told his partner everything he needed to know. Heyes slapped the Kid on the back and headed inside to take care of boarding their horses while Curry grabbed their saddle bags and strolled over to the hotel to check in. The lack of familiar names and faces meant they could indulge in a bath and a meal, then get down to the business of finding out what had happened to James Sterling and his brother-in-law – before his wife and nieces arrived. They reckoned they had about 24 hours to, at best, solve the mystery, and at the very least, to make sure it was safe for the ladies to be here.

oooo

Two hours later, the partners met up in Lucky Lulu's, the most prosperous looking of the four saloons in Silver Springs, to compare notes. Heyes ordered two beers from the bartender and sauntered over to the corner table, where Kid was politely fending off a determined little redhead in a tight purple dress that didn't leave a whole lot to the imagination.

"Sorry, honey, I gotta talk to my friend right now. Maybe another time."

He slipped her a couple bills which seemed to cheer her up immensely. Smiling coquettishly, she tucked them down her décolletage, and sashayed away from the table with a swish of satin skirts, but not before giving the dark-haired new arrival an appreciative once-over and a sly wink, then playfully calling over her bare shoulder,

"Guess he prefers your company to mine, Handsome!"

Grinning at the comment, Heyes sat down at the scarred wooden table, settled in with his back to the wall, and passed one of the beers over to his partner. As he took a sip from his glass, he glanced around the crowded room.

"What did you find out?" he asked, his intelligent eyes continuing to scan the saloon.

"Plenty," answered Kid.

"Don't look now, but see that guy with the mutton chop sideburns over by the piano? My little friend in the purple dress told me he owns half the town."

"Will Silver," supplied Heyes. "I heard that too, and from more than one person. So that's what he looks like. Wonder how he gets 'em to grow all bushy like that..."

"Don't get any ideas, Heyes. Your sideburns is already starting to take over your face," deadpanned Curry. "Course, that might be considered an improvement…"

Heyes chose not to rise to the bait but instead rolled his eyes and took another swallow of beer as he examined the owner of half the town, taking note of his richly embroidered brocade vest, carefully knotted string tie, and expensive-looking tooled leather cowboy boots.

"He looks prosperous enough. Betcha under that 10-gallon Stetson he's bald as an egg!"

Curry chuckled softly, then replied,

"Who woulda known Silver Springs is named for a real guy? I'd reckoned it was like all the other towns we been to called Silver Springs – just named for the way the springs looked to the first yahoo that stumbled across 'em and made up a name for the place."

"Me too. Well, not counting the Indians that most likely knew about the springs well before any of the yahoos showed up… Anything else?"

"Uh-huh. About them springs. Bartender gave me a real earful. Says there's quite a few heareabouts. Seems some fellas, including Silver, got greedy. Instead of letting the water seep up natural-like, they sunk wells and started in to pumping. They were selling water to the ranchers that didn't have a good water source on their land. Made a bundle, even after the cost of transport. But apparently, they drew too much water and now some of them springs dried up. Maybe for good."

"Why do folks always have to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs?" Heyes mused thoughtfully.

"What else ya got?

"Here's the best so far. I met a fella who was friends with both James Sterling and Richard Sullivan. Elmer Whitman."

"Yeah? He here now?" Heyes glanced around.

"Naw. He left about a half hour ago. Nice guy, real tall and skinny, big bushy beard, but kinda nervous. Kept lookin' over his shoulder. Asked him what was wrong but he wouldn't tell me. Wouldn't talk about Richard or James either. Just admitted he was friends with them and changed the subject. Soon as Silver showed up, he said he had to leave. Real sudden-like. "

"Real interesting that Whitman left as soon as Silver arrived."

"Yeah. It sure didn't seem like a coincidence." Kid drained the last of his beer.

"What did you turn up?"

Heyes smiled slowly in that 'cat that ate the canary' way he had of doing. "Maybe nothing. Maybe everything."

ooooooo

Mrs. Campbell greeted the bedraggled trio like long-lost relatives. She shooed her 12-year-old son, Rafe, outside to take care of the horses and gave the 16-year-old, Billy, strict instructions to carry their guests' baggage straight up to the "blue room," as she called it.

"Why land's sakes, you ladies look like you've been through the mill. You get yourselves inside and outta them dirty clothes and I'll draw up some nice hot baths to soak the trail dust offa ya. Coming clear across the prairie and over the mountains in a wagon all by yerselves! What are ya thinking? You must be plumb wore out to bits. Are ya hungry? Supper'll be on the table in half an hour. Then it's off to bed with ya!"

She enveloped each woman in turn in a tight motherly bear hug, pressing her amply cushioned girth into their slender frames.


	7. Chapter 7

"I went into the mercantile and happened to run into the foreman of The Sterling Ranch. Fellow name of Pedro Sanchez, Mexican fella, but speaks better English than most Americans I know," Heyes was saying. They were continuing the conversation back in their hotel room. There had been too many interruptions in Lulu's, plus Curry didn't like the fishy way Will Silver kept eyeing them from across the smoky barroom.

"What'd he tell you?" questioned the Kid, sitting on the edge of his bed, going about his nightly gun cleaning ritual. Heyes was sprawled on the other bed, boots kicked off and hands folded behind his head.

"Nothing. He wouldn't tell me a thing, but by not saying anything, that tells us he's a good man, loyal to his boss."

"Or that he's the one who killed him and he doesn't want to get caught!"

"I don't think so, Kid. I got a real good feeling about Pedro."

"So you're all excited about getting "a real good feeling"? Thought you said you were on to something," groused Curry.

"Wait. I'm not done yet." Heyes sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He unbuttoned his shirt as he continued.

"One of the Sterling hands was in the Diamond Horseshoe, and he was a little more forthcoming, with a little liquid persuasion, that is… After three shots of whiskey this fella told me that none of the hands has seen Sterling in six months. Right before that, he'd been real sick. But one day, the boss was gone, and a freshly dug grave showed up next to Cassidy's grave – that was Katy & Lilly's pa. He also said - and here's the kicker - every two weeks, Sanchez rides up to the First National Bank of Croton Pass and collects their pay. But Sanchez told them there's only one more payday coming. When this week is over, the hands will all have to leave to find other work." Heyes tossed his shirt over a chair, stood up, and began to unbuckle his trousers.

"What about the cattle?" Finished with his gun, Curry holstered it and hung the gunbelt over the brass bedstead. He packed up his cloth and oil in his saddlebag. He'd done his partner's Colt first, and it was already hanging on the other bedstead, both weapons handy in case they were needed during the night.

"I asked him that too. He said the cattle will be fine, because there are a couple _springs_ on the ranch." Heyes emphasized the word springs.

"So it all comes down to water," Heyes finished, crossing his arms over his chest smugly. He was clad only in his Henley and longjohns now, ready to turn in.

"Sterling has it and Silver wants it."

"Or had it," replied the Kid, "Sounds to me like Sterling is dead."

"I don't think so," replied Heyes cagily. "Who else would be paying the hands?"

"Yeah, you got a point there, Heyes, but don't forget. The money is about to run out," Kid answered.

"So the important question is _why_ is the money running out…"

Kid could almost see the gears turning in his partner's head. He was thinking too, but unlike his partner, he did his thinking out loud.

"Maybe Sterling didn't die six months ago, but he's dead now," he speculated. "Or maybe he's been dead all along, but he arranged the payouts ahead of time from an account that's finally run out of money." As Kid spoke, he undressed for bed, hanging his clothes on the other chair.

"Kid, we've got work to do," Heyes said as he crawled under the covers.

"So you've got a plan already." Curry grinned as he blew out the lamp and flopped into bed.

"Not quite, but first thing in the morning we gotta ride up to Croton Pass and persuade Elizabeth Sterling and her nieces to sit tight for a few days. It isn't safe for them to come down here yet. While we're up there we can do that job we promised Big Mac, or he'll make sure we're sorry. We also need to pay a visit to the Sterling Ranch and check out this grave for ourselves. AND, we need to find out more about your friend Elmer Whitman."

"For someone without a plan, you've sure got lots of plans for us tomorrow," Curry said mildly as he burrowed into the blankets.


	8. Chapter 8

The sun was only just beginning to poke its burnished head over the eastern horizon. The sky was gradually lightening from the bottom up: a sliver of gold traced the outline of the distant hills, a stray silhouette of an agave poking up here and there, limned starkly black against the gradual smear of hues, one blending subtly into the next - golden bronze blurring to shell pink to dove grey, to pale blue, then deeper and deeper blue, and finally to the indigo sweep of sky above them. A few of the brighter stars as well as the planet Venus were still visible, but were fading away as the sun steadily climbed. But Heyes and Curry did not have time to appreciate the beauty of another sunrise. Their attention was on something far more earthly. The two men sat their mounts in the pre-dawn chill, gazing down at two rough wooden crosses, side by side. The dusty soil beneath each was mounded slightly, the familiar shape of a grave, softened by bright yellow potentilla blossoms that someone must have planted. Even from the saddles, the names carved into the crosses could be read plainly. The older-looking, more weathered cross read "Richard Cassidy" while the newer, fresher looking one proclaimed "James Sterling."

"Well. That's that," pronounced Curry with finality. "S'pect we better go tell Mrs. Sterling the bad news."

His partner opened his mouth to respond, when suddenly a shot rang out. Both horses spooked as a bullet bounced off a rock just adjacent to the graves. They looked around as their horses danced nervously, each man immediately drawing his pistol with one hand while regaining control of the reins with the other.

''íVáyase! Get off this land!" came a guttural and heavily accented shout.

Standing about 10 yards away was Pedro Sanchez, Sterling's foreman. He was clad in a nightshirt, which billowed about bare, muscled legs, which he had thrust hastily into tooled leather cowboy boots. He seemed to have just emerged from the nearby ranch house and was holding a cocked rifle steadily, aiming it directly at Heyes's chest.

"Senor Sanchez," Heyes called, in that folksy, affable tone he so often employed when trying to convince someone not to do something rash, like possibly shoot him, "it's me – Joshua Smith! Remember, we met at the mercantile today."

"In case you have not noticed, Senor Smith," came the gruff response. "This is not the mercantile. This is the Sterling Rancho. And you and your amigo are trespassing. I must ask you to leave. AHORA."

Heyes made a show of carefully holstering his Schofield and raising both hands up, palms open, face still guileless and radiating innocence. The Kid kept his own gun aimed at Sanchez.

"Mr. Sanchez," Heyes called again, not abandoning up his demeanor of innocence. "You misunderstand our intentions. James Sterling's wife sent us here to find out about him. We just want to know what happened to him – "

His words were cut off by a rifle report. The bullet kicked up the dust near his feet. The Kid cocked his Colt, but he could tell that Pedro was deliberately missing, so he remained merely vigilant and ready.

"What about Senora Sterling? How do you know her?" the Mexican man asked suspiciously. He glanced back at the ranch house, about 30 yards distant. Both partners followed his gaze and noticed a curtain in the window twitch ever so slightly.

Curry tried now, speaking in a calm, soothing voice, "Mr. Sanchez, we just want to talk to you is all –"

"You have your answer," he almost spat out, gesturing to the grave with his rifle. "Now, get off this land!" he repeated. "You are trespassers!"

Kid and Heyes exchanged a glance. The Kid uncocked his gun and returned it to his holster with a flourish. Without speaking, the partners reined their horses around and trotted away from the cluster of ranch buildings, the lonely graves, and the irate ranch foreman.

They didn't talk until they had ridden out of rifle range.

"Huh," said Heyes. "Whaddaya know?"

"So Sterling is really dead," the Kid answered.

"What makes you think that, Kid?" asked Heyes, surprised.

"Weren't you just lookin' at what I was just lookin' at?" answered Curry. "In my experience, a grave usually indicates a dead man."

"Exactly," answered Heyes with a knowing look on his face. He kicked his horse into a gallop and the Kid hastened along behind him, wondering what was going on in his partner's head.

They rode along in silence for a while, heading for the trail that led up to Croton Pass. They had agreed upon the sequence of that days events when they woke before dawn. That is, when Heyes woke up a grouchy and complaining Kid Curry before dawn. First the ranch, then Ken Reed's office, then Mrs. Campbell's boarding house. The two riders were soon ascending the steep, rocky path that all the locals referred to as "The Mountain Trail."

"Heyes – what are ya thinkin'?" Kid finally asked, breaking the silence. "Why doncha believe Sterling is dead?"

"It's just too simple, Kid," answered his dark-haired partner, twisting a bit in the saddle to look at him. "I mean, he might be dead, but he might not be. If he were dead, why wouldn't Sanchez just come out and tell us? Why was he so fired up about getting us off the property – making sure we didn't poke around too much?"

"And who was lookin' out the window?" questioned Curry, beginning to feel a mite suspicious himself.

"Yeah," Heyes answered slowly, drawing out the word thoughtfully. "Sterling may or may not be dead, but Sanchez is definitely hiding something."

"What are we gonna tell Mrs. Sterling?" Kid asked. "Either way, the ranch belongs to her. But it don't seem safe for her and the girls to move in just yet."

"Let's just tell her what we planned – to hold on a couple days while we figure out what's going on."

"We shouldn't give her any false hopes, Heyes. If her husband really is dead, she's got a right to know."

"True, true, Kid. But let's just wait until we're sure."


	9. Chapter 9

"Ken Reed? I'm Joshua Smith and this is my partner, Thaddeus Jones. Mr. McCreedy sent us."

"You're late," Reed growled, ignoring the outstretched hand.

"Oh yes, sir, we're real sorry about that, but we were unavoidably delayed. Didn't Mr. McCreedy wire you?"

"Oh, I got a wire alright, but not from Big Mac. My guess is it came from you."

The partners exchanged a glance. Seems the telegraph operator had a big mouth. Heyes continued innocently,

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Reed. But we're here now and isn't that what counts?"

He smiled genially at the grey-haired Reed, taking the measure of the man. He knew the Kid was doing the same and that they'd compare their impressions later. Reed was a friend of McCreedy's, but that didn't really tell him much about him. Big Mac tended to have friends similar to himself – rich, powerful men, men who didn't mind throwing their weight around if that's what it took to get ahead. Some of them didn't mind getting their hands dirty, either. Big Mac himself wasn't above making veiled threats about turning in the two former outlaws if they didn't agree to whatever scheme he had up his sleeve. They were pretty sure he was bluffing, but when you have a 20-year sentence hanging over your head, it pays to be careful. Underneath his gruff exterior, Mac was a decent guy. And since they'd first met him, he'd helped them out by throwing jobs their way now and again.

For his part, Ken Reed was sizing up the two men standing on the other side of the polished mahogany desk in his leather-upholstered, book-lined law office. Big Mac said these two could be trusted and that they were handy to have around if things got "rough." The men were outwardly polite, but there was a certain air about them. It was more than cowboy swagger, though they had that in spades. Both young and well-built. Wore their guns like they knew how to use them. Confident. Gave the impression of men who could handle themselves in any situation.

Reed'd told his old friend that it was a simple delivery job, but he'd been withholding key information. If McCreedy knew what he'd gotten himself involved in, he wasn't so sure Mac would have been willing to send him anyone. Maybe wouldn't even want to retain his friendship. Then there was the matter of the fake telegram sent from Silver Springs, but it could be the two young men just wanted to have a little fun in the saloons there after a few days on the trail and before heading up to the relatively staid Croton Gap, not known for its night life, with just the one saloon and no brothels. After all, they were young. And they were men.

"So, what's this job you need doing?" the man who'd introduced himself as Smith asked.

"Sit down, boys," Reed belatedly reached across to shake hands and indicated two chairs. "Cigar?" He offered. Each man in turn helped himself as they sat down facing Reed.

"Big Mac told you it's a delivery job. What he didn't tell you, because he didn't know it, is that it's also a dangerous delivery job," Reed began.

A pair of blue eyes and a pair of brown ones exchanged a glance. Just for once could a job please be simple?

"Dangerous how?" Jones asked, speaking for the first time.

"Let's just say," prevaricated Reed, as he reached across the desk to light his guests' cigars, "that it's a rather substantial amount of cash. And any time a large amount of cash is being transported there's bound to be some danger involved."

"Why doncha just wire it from the bank?" This again was Jones asking.

To Reed's surprise, Smith answered for him,

"Because, Thaddeus, this money must not have been acquired in an exactly above-board fashion. Mr. Reed and whomever it's being delivered to don't want the nice folks at the bank to know about this 'substantial' amount of cash. Because they just might feel duty-bound to report it to the sheriff and he might just take an uncomfortably close look into the situation. Am I right, Mr. Reed?"

Reed was somewhat disconcerted by the cynical smile the dark-haired young man turned his way.

"Mr. McCreedy said I could trust you to be discreet," he said, avoiding the question.

"Oh, we can be discreet alright, as long as we're not asked to do anything illegal. We only accept jobs that are strictly law-abiding and above reproach. Isn't that right, Thaddeus?"

"That's right, Joshua. You ain't askin' us to do anything illegal, are you, Mr. Reed?"

The look that Jones gave Reed was cold and intimidating. Reed found himself unable to meet the cool blue gaze. He hastily protested,

"No, no, gentleman! You've got it all wrong! There's nothing illegal about money won in a poker game, is there? Why I could deposit it directly in any bank in the US of A without raising so much as an eyebrow. But you see, I can't. The real reason for all the secrecy is I'm just plain embarrassed. The truth is, I lost a bet. A bet with Will Silver – know him?"

Reed was watching them carefully for their reactions.

"We've heard of him," Smith admitted. Neither his nor Jones's face betrayed anything. "Go on."

"Well. As I said, I was very lucky at the poker table a few months back. I walked away with $20,000. Will Silver happened to be in town visiting. We've been rivals for years. He was always bragging about his success in Silver Springs – hell, the town's even named for him, isn't it?"

He laughed, a husky barking laugh devoid of mirth, then continued,

"He was going on about how much richer he was going to get once the railroad bought up a bunch of his land. I guess I was feeling pretty cocky and I made a bet with him. I bet him the whole 20 grand that the railroad would come through Croton Pass and not Silver Springs. Well. Word's out the Railroad is coming to Silver Springs. I lost the bet and now I need that money delivered. And I really don't want anyone else to know what a stupid bet I made."

"Considering that Croton Pass is halfway up a mountain and Silver Springs is sitting down there in a nice, flat valley, I'd have to agree with you that it wasn't a very smart bet to make," opined Smith.

"That's why I never even deposited the money in the bank," Reed explained, with an oily smile. "I knew I'd lose that wager, so I kept the cash at home in my safe."

"Oh, you have your own safe?" asked Mr. Smith casually.

oooooooooo

"So what did you think of him?" Heyes asked his partner, as they led their horses down the main street from Ken Reed's law office toward Mrs. Campbell's Boarding House. Croton Pass was so small it didn't seem worth the bother to climb up on the horses' backs only to get right back down a few blocks later. The thought of a railroad coming through this hamlet was downright laughable.

"For starters, he's a terrible liar," his partner answered, talking around the cigar stub clenched in his teeth.

"Yeah," agreed Heyes. "He must think either we're stupid or we're not as law-abiding and above-reproach as we led him to believe."

"Well, he's right," replied his partner. "On both counts. Why are we taking this job again, Heyes?"

"You're the one insisted we help Mrs. Sterling and her nieces, remember? We both agree Silver is mixed up in it somehow. And I've got a feeling Reed's involved too. Not to mention Reed's a friend of Big Mac. Besides, we need the money," he added.

"Aw, come on! You wanted to help them gals just as much as I did, you just don't want to admit it! And," continued Kid, "you just can't resist a mystery, can you, Partner?"

"Kid," Hannibal Heyes slapped his oldest and dearest friend on the back. "You always did see right through me."

Kid just shook his head, but he couldn't help smiling. Heyes was at his best when he was trying to solve a puzzle. Hell, this might even be fun.

"Heyes," Kid asked, "What's a no – tarry republic? Some special kinda lawyer?"

Heyes raised an eyebrow, then answered,

"Oh, Notary Public! You saw that sign in Reed's office. It means he's got a special license so's he can witness signatures on official documents. Comes with a fancy embossed seal and the whole bit. Lotta lawyers got that."

"Huh. Wonder how come he didn't use it when he made us sign for the cash," Curry mused.


	10. Chapter 10

"Joshua! Thaddeus!" hollered the freckle-faced tow-headed boy from the wrap-around porch.

"Hey, Ma!" He yelled through the door of the sprawling Victorian-style boarding house behind him, "Josh and Thad is here!"

Then he cleared all four steps with one leap and raced up to the two visitors, thrilled at their return after an absence of several months.

"Let me get your horses! How long ya staying?"

"Howdy Rafe," said Heyes, handing the eager boy his reins, "How ya been?"

"Rafe," Curry eyed him appraisingly, "you musta growed three inches since we saw you last! What's your ma been feeding you, boy?"

Rafe beamed, holding himself as straight and tall as humanly possible.

"That's the Thaddeus Jones I remember," Mrs. Campbell had appeared on the porch, drying her hands on her apron, "always thinkin' 'bout food."

"Ella!" both men called simultaneously.

They were up the steps in no time, taking turns hugging the short but substantially built landlady.

"You're looking as lovely as ever," teased Joshua, brushing a wisp of flour off her ruddy cheek. She batted his hand away, but smiled in spite of herself.

"Aw, go on with you!" she scolded, voice stern, but face betraying her affection for the two visitors.

"How long you stayin'? I've got your friends in the blue room, but there's plenty space up on the third floor -"

"Only for breakfast, Ella, if you'll have us," interrupted Joshua. "We've got to be getting back to Silver Springs."

"Well, it's great to see you boys, even if it's only for a little while. And I want to thank you for sending me Mrs. Sterling and her nieces. Such lovely young ladies."

She put one plump arm around each narrow waist and walked them into the house.

oooooooooooooooo

"Speaking of Mrs. Sterling, that's the main reason we're here. We need to talk to her," explained Joshua, with a serious look on his face. "About something real important."

Ella Campbell's ruddy face lit up and she clapped her hands together.

"Talk to Mrs. Sterling! About something important!"

She was already planning the double wedding: Joshua with Katy and Thaddeus with Lilly! Oh, what handsome couples they'd make! Or maybe Thaddeus with Katy and Joshua with Lilly …? That might look even nicer, what with the contrasting hair colors…

"Ella," the man she knew as Thaddeus interrupted her reverie, seemingly having read her mind, "it's not what you're thinkin'."

Joshua caught on and protested, "Why, we barely know those girls! I mean, they're real nice girls and all, but that's not what we came here to talk to their aunt about."

Ella looked disappointed.

"I'd already decided what kind of cake I was going to bake," she complained.

"Oh, we won't stop you from baking any cakes," joked Thaddeus.

"Well, you two go get washed up out back and then set yourself down to the table. Everybody'll be joining us for breakfast directly and you can talk to Elizabeth after. We're having all your favorites, Thaddeus, apple flapjacks and bacon, and fresh eggs, sunnyside up. And I got some genu-wine maple syrup from a little old lady who stayed here last month. Brought it all the way from back east. Now where's that Billy? BILLY!" She hollered up the stairs. "He'll be so tickled to see you! Talks about you two all the time. BILLY!"

She bustled around setting two more places at the long dining table and carrying in steaming platters of food.

oooooooo

Breakfast was a joyful, noisy affair, with their hostess introducing the newer boarders to the visitors, Mrs. Sterling, Katy, and Lilly surprised yet pleased to see them here. Miss Tibbetts, a prim elderly lady they knew from their last visit, was falling all over them like they were her long-lost grandsons; Billy was beaming from ear to ear as their guests shook his hand like he was a man grown and teased him about having two such pretty young ladies staying in the house. After everyone had eaten their fill, Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones asked Mrs. Sterling to step into the drawing room.

"What is it?" she asked worriedly. "Why are you here? This isn't merely a social call, is it?"

"Perhaps you should sit down, Mrs. Sterling," Mr. Smith suggested kindly. "You might not want to hear what we've come to tell you."

She sat down primly on the horsehair-stuffed loveseat. Both men settled themselves on nearby chairs, looking over-sized and slightly incongruous in the fussily feminine room, festooned as it was with dainty lace doilies and flowery china vases.

"You've been to Silver Springs, haven't you? You know something about my husband! What is it! Please, tell me," she begged. "Is James alive?"

"We don't rightly know that for sure, ma'am," answered Mr. Jones carefully. "It doesn't look real good, but we aim to find out. Until we do, we want you and your nieces to stay put here in Croton Pass. It ain't safe for you down in Silver Springs."

"He can't be dead! He can't be! I have to go there! I can't stand not knowing!" She stood up. "You can't stop me!"

"Actually, we probably could, ma'am, being bigger and stronger than you and wearing guns and all," Mr. Smith began affably. "But we wouldn't do that," he continued. "It's just that we've grown to like you – and your nieces – and we'd hate to see any harm come to you. We don't yet know what happened to your husband, and it's gonna take us at least a couple days to figure it all out. And my friend here is telling the truth of it. It isn't safe for you in Silver Springs until this gets sorted out. Now you might take a risk yourself, but would you knowingly put Katy Rose and Lilly Anne in danger?"

Elizabeth sat down again, still looking worried but apparently convinced.

"Alright. Ella already said we could stay as long as we wanted. I'll tell her we won't be leaving for another few days."

Your silvery tongue has done it again, Heyes, Curry thought silently to himself. Nice touch using the girls' full names like that.


	11. Chapter 11

Jake the Snake Martin woke up with a stiff neck, a pounding head, and a sour taste in his mouth. All he could see in front of his face was a blank brick wall. He could hear snoring and something smelled like it had crawled into a nearby corner and up and died. Where the hell was he? Not even a bed, some kind of cot with a ratty old wool blanket. Jake pushed himself groggily to a sitting position. Bleary-eyed, he took stock of his location, noting the parallel iron bars on the wall opposite, the swarm of black flies settled on a small pile of vomit on the dirt floor, and his three companions passed out in the other cots. Shit! We're in jail! He ran his fingers through his greasy, matted hair, trying to recall the night before. Riding all day for nothing, no Heyes and no Curry. No $20,000. Drinking. A lot of drinking. The saloon. Playing some cards. Coupla saggy old whores. More drinking. Snake belched and scratched his crotch. He noticed his knuckles were skinned and crusted with dried blood. Oh yeah. The fight. What started it anyway? Jake couldn't recall. And then that priggish Deputy showed up and run them all in for Drunk & Disorderly. How long they'd have to stay here? Prob'ly haveta wait for the circuit judge to show up and pay the fine. Damn. What if someone recognized them? All four were wanted for various offenses - and he himself had murder charges hanging over him. He'd swing for sure if anyone they knew spotted 'em. It was all Curry and Heyes's fault. Them and those stuck-up eastern women in the wagon. Jake muttered every cuss word he could think of before he sank back down on his cot to finish sleeping it off.


	12. Chapter 12

"Still got yours?" Heyes asked.

"Yup," answered Curry, patting the rather substantial lump in his vest pocket. "You?"

"Uh-huh. I was thinking, it's kind of ironic, each of us holding $10,000 in our pockets. You know, considering…"

"Yeah, considering…!" His partner grinned, shaking his head, "What else ya thinkin, Heyes?"

"Oh, just that the "old" us would be tempted to ride on outta here without delivering this money."

"But we ain't gonna do that, are we Heyes?"

"Nope."

"Cuz we ain't the old us anymore. We're the new us," Curry pronounced, as if he couldn't quite believe this turn of events, but also couldn't help being just a little bit proud of it, too.

"Yep," Heyes grinned and shook his head, chuckling. People's philosopher, alright, he couldn't help thinking to himself.

The partners continued to ride slowly down the steep mountain trail, leaning back in their saddles, giving their horses free rein to set the pace and pick their own routes along the rock-studded trail, occasionally kicking loose a small stone which went skittering down the slope in front of them. It was after noon and the late summer sun filtering through the leaves made dappled patterns on the ground. A soft breeze ruffled their hair and kept them comfortable enough, both already having removed their jackets and vests and rolled up their shirtsleeves. It was actually a beautiful day and a lovely trail, what with glimpses of the rolling valley below revealed intermittently between the trees as the trail switchbacked its way down the mountain, but the reformed outlaws had other things on their minds than the scenery.

"So now whatta we do?" Curry asked. "I mean, after we deliver this money to Will Silver and go back up to Croton Pass so's you can open up Reed's safe."

"I must be rubbing off on you, Kid," enthused Heyes. "You're beginning to think like me."

"Heyes, I knew you was gonna open that safe the minute Reed mentioned it," scoffed the Kid.

"So what I'm wondering, is what we're gonna do after that?"

"What we do after that, Kid, depends on what we find in the safe."

000000

"Good thing nobody knew who we was," Coyote was grumbling as he, Martin, and the rest of his small gang saddled their horses. They had supplied the circuit judge with fake names and paid their fine. It was just their luck to get one of those smart-ass judges who asked you how much money you had, then made the fine equal to every last red cent. And they couldn't even lie about it either, cuz the deputy had made them turn out their pockets before he locked them up. Sheesh. But Coyote had a point; flat broke beat strung up.

"Where to, Boss?" asked Dag, tying a relatively fresh bandanna diagonally across the left side of his face over his scarred, empty eye socket. "Think we can still find Heyes and Curry?"

"It's been two days,' he snarled. "Them boys is long gone. I was thinkin' we might pay a visit to Silver Springs. Old Man Silver might have another job for us. If he don't, maybe we can head up to Croton Pass and blow the bank there. Besides, that was the direction them women was headed in. I wouldn't mind paying them a little visit to "thank" them for landing us in jail!"

0000000

"Well, if it ain't my two favorite customers!" The petite redheaded saloon girl was tightly laced into an emerald green dress today, and though it wasn't yet noon, she was swaying slightly as she made a beeline over to the pair of good-looking cowboys she recognized from the night before. As she tottered along, she called out,

"Buy a gal a drink, fellas?"

Just as she reached them, she stumbled and would have fallen to the floor if the Kid hadn't caught her by both arms.

"Well, hell – lo, Blue Eyes!" she purred appreciatively, gazing up into his face and leaning heavily against his chest.

Blue Eyes and his partner each grabbed one elbow and steered the wobbling young woman to a corner table.

"Think maybe you already had enough drinks for today, sweetheart. Let's get you a nice cup of hot coffee and something to eat," Heyes suggested as they settled her into a chair.

"Aww, you're no fun at all," she pouted, putting on a little girl voice and thrusting out her lower lip at the dark-haired man. My God, but he was gorgeous. And those dimples! Giggling, she turned to the other one, no slouch in the looks department either, what with those baby blues and the blonde curls. The slurred words hampered her attempt at a seductive tone,

"What about you? Are you fun? Wanna take me upstairs?"

Kid felt a surge of pity for the girl. She was pretty alright, with that fiery hair and those undeniable, uh, assets, but she looked real young and just a little bit desperate underneath all that paint. She was also half in the bag.

Heyes answered for his partner,

"Lulu, darlin', we don't have time for that –"

"What?! You mean it takes you longer than 10 minutes like the rest of these cowpokes around here!?" Lulu sputtered.

She evidently found her own remark a source of immense amusement because she started into a fit of giggles.

During this exchange, Curry ambled over to the bar where he ordered two beers, one black coffee, and some sandwiches. He paid the bartender, then helped himself to a couple of pickled eggs from the jar on the counter just to tide him over until the sandwiches were ready.

"Want one?" he offered an egg to his partner as he sat down again, still chewing the other one he'd snagged. Heyes made a disgusted face, but otherwise ignored the question. Kid shrugged and popped the offending egg into his mouth whole.

"We're looking for Will Silver, Lulu. He around?" Heyes asked the redhead.

Lulu's smile faded away. "He's upstairs," she answered darkly. So that explained her current state of inebriation.

"I know I'm not his only girl, you know," she complained. "I wasn't born yesterday. But I'm his best girl, you know? He named this saloon after me, you know. I mean, he's got three other saloons… "

"Yeah, we know," Kid said gently.

Silver could have patronized any of the girls in any of the other three joints in town without throwing it in Lulu's face. His already low opinion of the man took an even deeper plunge.

"Lucky Lulu's," she mused. "Cuz I'm sooo lucky to be his girl…hah. I shoulda listened to my maw. She always used to say there's _two_ kinds of luck..."

One of the other girls walked up just then balancing a tray holding the beers, coffee, and sandwiches, along with a small bowl containing three more pickled eggs. Heyes thanked her and tipped her as Kid handed the cup of coffee to their companion.

"Here, drink this, darlin', it'll make you feel better."

She looked doubtful, but obediently took a sip, holding the cup in both hands like a small child. Kid dug into a sandwich.

"Lulu, do you know a fella by the name of Elmer Whitman?" Heyes asked conversationally.

The name didn't seem to ring any bells, so Curry helpfully described him between bites,

"Tall, skinny guy, mid-30's, big bushy beard, kind of nervous-acting. I saw him in here last night."

"Oh, him," she answered. "I never knew his name, but he comes in here from time to time."

She leaned forward and whispered loudly,

"The girls all think he's – _you_ know – because he'll never go with any of us."

The coffee was helping, but she was still quite tipsy.

"Or maybe he's married," offered Kid.

"Hah. Like that ever stops 'em," she scoffed. "One time, on a bet, Sally offered him a toss for free, and he turned her down flat. I lost six bits!" she said indignantly. "I thought it was a sure thing."

"Do you ever see Elmer and Will together?" asked Heyes.

Lulu screwed up her face in concentration before finally speaking,

"Never. But he's always asking questions about Will…Hey!" she suddenly exclaimed. It was as if a light were dawning on her,

"Maybe the girls are right and he – you know – _fancies_ Will!"

Just then her expression darkened again as her gaze was drawn to the staircase in the far corner of the saloon. Will Silver was descending, ostentatiously retying his string tie and straightening his brocade vest. A tall, willowy brunette beauty clad only in a dressing gown appeared at the top of the stairs, leaning languidly against the newel post.

"Bye, Will," she cooed.

Silver didn't appear to take notice, but Lulu did. Her eyes looked daggers at the other girl. Then she turned to Heyes and asked him anxiously,

"Do you think I should dye my hair black?"

"No. Red suits you. I've always been partial to redheads myself," he smiled kindly at her, dimples appearing in the corners of his mouth.

The compliment and the smile served to boost Lulu's battered ego and she sat up a little straighter, sipping her coffee with as much dignity as she could summon.

"If you'll excuse us now, ma'am, my partner and I need to go see Mr. Silver." He stood up and touched his hat.

"Thaddeus?"

Kid popped the last egg in his mouth, already having polished off several sandwiches, and rose to his feet. Nodding at Lulu, he touched his hat and followed Heyes to the end of the bar, where Silver was now leaning, surveying the barroom with a proprietary air.

"Mr. Silver?" Heyes inquired, "Ken Reed sent us. Is there somewhere we can talk – in private?"

000000000

Silver looked over the two saddle bums with a superior air. They were strangers to him, yet it wasn't unusual to see unfamiliar faces around Silver Springs. Cowhands came and went. Drifters and outlaws were attracted by the town's reputation for exciting night-life and a sheriff who didn't take much notice of the law. Despite their somewhat trail-worn and dusty-looking appearance, Reed's delivery boys carried themselves with confidence. He took notice of the low-slung holsters tied down with rawhide thongs, while noting with satisfaction that each man had a rather substantial bulge in the area of his vest pocket. Looks like Reed caved in after all, he thought to himself smugly. Silver jerked his head toward a closed door in the back corner of the room. He then turned and sauntered inside, leaving the two men to follow him into his private office.

Silver immediately drew the blinds on the window, but not before Curry glimpsed something of interest just outside it. He caught his partner's eye and gave a significant look toward the window. Heyes wasn't sure what the Kid had seen, but figured it was something important. He nodded his head slightly toward the vicinity of Kid's vest, which prompted the Kid to remove his wad of bills and pass it over to Heyes. Kid waited to see what came next. As he'd guessed, it didn't take his quick-thinking partner more than half a minute to come up with a cover story for him.

"Oh, alright, Thaddeus!" He said with an impatient tone in his voice. "Go ahead and chase after her if she means that much to you – I reckon I can handle this without you here."

"Thanks, Joshua. I owe you one!" Curry answered, winking at his friend in what he hoped was a lascivious manner, and slipping quickly out of the room.

Silver stood there with one raised eyebrow and a bemused expression on his face.

"I'm Smith," the remaining man announced. "That was my partner who just went chasing after a certain young lady who works over in the Diamond Horseshoe."

Silver chuckled. "I own that establishment, Mr. Smith. I am glad to see your friend appreciates my … employees." He laughed lecherously, then abruptly turned to the business at hand. "Now, can I assume that you have something for me?"

"Yes, here's your cash," Heyes handed over both wads. Silver counted it greedily.

"Mr. Reed is expecting a receipt," Heyes said evenly.

Silver looked up from his counting, annoyed. "A receipt! Well he isn't getting a receipt from me! What does he think this is? The goddamn mercantile?"

"Pardon me sir, but Mr. Reed insists on proof that my partner and I have delivered his money before he'll consider paying us our fee. And we do expect to get paid," He added with a slight edge to his voice. "How about if you write it out so that is simply says we delivered the full amount without specifying the actual numbers?" he suggested helpfully.

"Well, I guess that'll be okay," grumbled Silver, just to get rid of this annoying man.


End file.
